When you were young
by Eve Piton
Summary: Set after the scene in the pub. Mark sees Roger kissing Mimì and runs home.Will Roger notice or will he let it slip?First one of 3 one shots. It's a songfic to When you were young by the Killers. Warning:MarkRoger slash. I'm hungry for reviews pease!


Author's note: this is a first of a series of 3 one-shots. The one-shots will all be based on the song When you were young by the killers and will all include slash couples from Rent, C.S.I and Harry Potter. Reviews are always welcomed!!!!

Mark sat down by the window. He felt on the verge of emotional breakdown. He had just run away from the little celebration in honor of Maureen's protest. He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn't help to feel furious. He had insisted so much on Roger coming to the show and this had resulted in Roger kissing Mimì right in front of him. Not that he disliked the Scratch Club Dancer. She was nice, and funny and damned sexy .She was probably better than April anyway. But secretly he wanted Roger to remain his Roger. He liked the way they lived right now: the two of them living alone in their flat, Roger playing guitar while he tried to think about a good subject for his next film. He liked the idea of Roger being there for him and of him taking care of Roger.

Gosh he felt so angry!!He wanted to do something, to hit something, to hurt someone.

_You sit there in your heartache __Waiting on some beautiful boy to __save you from your old ways __You play forgiveness __Watch it now ... here he comes!_

Roger entered the room and Mark was glad to see that he was alone. He had expected Roger to be happy and boasting but the musician looked worried instead. He sat beside Mark and placed a hand on his shoulder

_He doesn't look a thing like Jesus __But he talks like a gentleman __Like you imagined when you were young _

"I know it is hard" he whispered into Mark's ear. "But it was not your fault. You were really great with Maureen. She just…"

Mark burst into laughter. It was a bitter laugh. Roger clearly had completely missed the point. Not that Mark expected otherwise anyway. Roger, he had started to notice, wasn't exactly quick at getting things. In fact he was staring at mark right now, a blank expression on his face.

"Drop it Roger" Mark spat out in a harsh tone "Giving advice is not your thing really. And this is not about Maureen "

Roger's eyes sparkled with anger but after a second a hurt expression took its place. It just made Mark feeling worse and therefore angrier. Roger opened his mouth but Mark was quicker…

_Can we climb this mountain __I don't know __Higher now than ever before __I know we can make it if we take it slow __Let's take it easy __Easy now, watch it go _

He exhaled slowly. "Listen Roger" he said trying to be as nasty as possible "I know you might not believe this but there are more important things in this world than girls, self-pitying and nonsense dreaming about glory. And incredible as it may sound some of us have more important things to do than running after young girls and signing their own death sentence"

Mark had hit a nerve. Roger stood up, unable to speak, shaking with fury. He quickly walked to his bedroom and slammed the door behind himself._We're burning down the highway skyline __On the back of a hurricane that started turning __When you were young __When you were young _

The moment he heard the door slamming, Mark burst into tears. He punched the wall behind him, cursing himself, Roger, Mimì, everybody.

_And sometimes you close your eyes __and see the place where you used to live __When you were young _

Lying on his bed, Roger cried silently. He was hurt, really hurt. He had already heard that kind of shit. New York was full of people campaigning against HIV-positive people. His parents had always told him that he was a burden, wasting his time and their money playing guitar all the time. But he would never have expected those words from Mark. Mark was his friend, his only friend. The one who was always there for him, who brought him food, who always pestered him about taking his AZT. _They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet __You don't have to drink right now __But you can dip your feet __Every once in a little while _

And then it hit him. It appeared right into his mind while his anger instantly disappeared. He saw it clear in Mark's word: "Some of us have more important things than running after girls, signing their own death sentence". It was him. He was Mark's more important thing. He was Mark's self-prescribed death sentence. Him and the filming. Smiling he wiped away his tears and in a moment he was asleep.

The next morning, when he woke up, Mark was already gone. Roger went downstairs and let a letter slid through Mimi's window. After that he returned to his flat and sat down on the sofa. In the afternoon Mimì came looking for him but he refused to let her him. "Another time. Come back another day please" he said to the crying girl. No pleading or no-day-but-today rant could make him change his mind. He went back to his sofa and waited.

_You sit there in your heartache __Waiting on some beautiful boy to __To save you from your old ways __You play forgiveness __Watch it now here he comes_

When Mark reappeared it was already late. The young film-maker blushed the moment he saw Roger. He tried to hurry to his room but the musician stopped him. He dragged Mark to the sofa and forced him to sit down. Holding Mark's wrists he looked at the young man in the eyes. "Roger" Mark pleaded him "I know...I was horrible…I don't know what to say. I mean you were probably right. I was just angry because of Maureen…"He doesn't look a thing like Jesus But he talks like a gentleman Like you imagined when you were young (He talks like a gentlemen, like you imagined when) When you were young

"Shut up" Roger ordered him. He had meant to sound mocking but Mark was too scared to get it. "Listen now boy. You might not believe this but there are more important things in this world than boys, self-pitying and useless guessing about others' feeling. Some of us have more important things to do than running after puzzling film-makers, waiting for their execution day to come. So I'll ask you now and for once. Do you want me to go out and be with Mimì or do you want me to stay here or be your boyfriend?"

Marked blushed: "Roger…" he whispered, lowering his gaze

Roger tightened his grip: "Answer me, Mark"

Mark raised his eyes to meet Roger's. He was crying. Roger looked at him and yet again his answer was there.

When Mark opened his mouth, he already knew what would come next

"Yes"

_I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus __He doesn't look a thing like Jesus __But more than you'll ever know_

The day Mimì moved away Roger wondered how it could have been if things had been different. What if Mark had said no? Would the two of them have gotten together? Would they have made a nice couple? He tried to picture himself walking the streets of New York without having a camera constantly pointed in his face, without people looking at him because he was holding hands with another guy. He shuddered. That was another story to be told, not his. And maybe one day Mark would tell it, in one of his films.


End file.
